Switching Souls
by Kerrigas
Summary: Goku and Vegeta, in an inevitable turn of events, manage to switch souls. Stuck in each other's body, they resolve to remain in character until Bulma can fix the device that swapped their bodies... but will they be able to pull it off without their friends and family catching on? Should be a piece of cake... right? Vegeta sure doesn't have high hopes. A DBZ humor fic.
1. Switching Souls Part 1

**.:Author's Note:.** This was originally written as part of my DBZ humor fic series A Saiyan Adventure, but since it's been so long since I updated that one and my writing style has changed somewhat, I figured I'd upload this as a separate story and save many people the pain of reading through my previous attempts at poorly-written humor. Feel free to go through and read it before/after though... I wrote this a while ago but never managed to finish, and with all the time I've had on my hands lately, I've finally gotten back to trying to finish this. It should only be 2 or 3 parts. Happy reading!

 **Disclaimer:** The rights to Dragonball Z belong to Akira Toriyama, Toei Animation, and Fuji TV. This is a not-for-profit work of fiction.

 **Warnings:** Rated for Vegeta's foul mouth, mature themes/jokes, and general chaos.

...

Switching Souls Part 1

…

Vegeta grunted under the strain of five hundred times gravity, curling his body up parallel to his lower body before dropping back down, hanging upside down from the metal rail he'd wrapped his legs around. The saiyan managed his last set of hundred before flipping off the rail and landing with a huff. Vegeta straightened and turned off the machine, grabbing a white towel and wiped his face and neck before whipping it over his shoulders. He exited the gravity room and was headed towards the house when a towering saiyan abruptly appeared in front of him, two fingers pressed to his forehead.

"Hey Vegeta!" Goku greeted cheerfully.

"Hey dickhead. Get off my property."

Goku frowned. "This isn't your house, you know. And Bulma said I was allowed to come over whenever I wanted."

"Well the woman isn't here. So shove off," Vegeta growled, stomping inside. Goku followed him regardless.

"Aren't you in a good mood today," he noted with surprising sarcasm. Vegeta shot the younger saiyan a glare but did not bequeath him a response. Instead he reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water, gulping it down in seconds.

"So," Goku began, "what are the kids up to?"

Vegeta grunted. "Hell if I know. If they aren't beating each other up, terrifying the neighbor's dog, or staring at that abominable television screen, then I have no idea as to where they would be."

"Oh. Do you think Bulma might have taken them out?"

"I don't know. She said she was going grocery shopping or something."

Goku grinned. "Grocery shopping. That brings back memories! Remember when –"

"No, Kakkarot. I do not wish to remember. So shut that racketing mouth of yours before I shove my fist down your throat."

"You're no fun," Goku pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"And you're a pathetic, witless child. Grow up, will you?" Vegeta growled. Goku grinned.

"I'm the pathetic witless child that kicks your ass every time we spar."

Vegeta whirled around to face the saiyan, a look of rage distorting his features. "You want to repeat that, asswipe?" he snarled, storming forward. Goku danced out of range and began walking through the corridors. Vegeta followed him, still steaming.

"So what's Bulma been working on lately? She told me she'd been investigating a whole new concept."

Vegeta grunted. "How would I know? Damn woman never tells me anything."

"Maybe because last time she told you, you dashed into her lab and blasted the whole room to smithereens."

"She was making a collar that forces the wearer to obey any command!" Vegeta hissed. "And I know that she would have wasted no time in making me her first guinea pig!"

Goku laughed. "Oh come on, she was just screwing around with you."

"Oh sure, except I heard her muttering something about 'Vegeta in a pink apron baking a lemon pie.' I have my pride you know!"

Goku chortled. "I would have loved to see that!" Vegeta shot him a murderous glare that was quickly cut off as Goku let out a quip of joy upon arriving to and entering Bulma's lab. The room was relatively large and windowless with piles upon piles of machinery, junk, and scattered papers piled on desks and tables. A large metallic table lay uncovered in the middle of the room, above it some kind of complex scanning machinery. Goku began pacing around, poking around and scrutinizing papers curiously.

"Don't break anything," Vegeta growled as Goku handled a large scrap of tubular metal. "We shouldn't even be here. The woman is going to throw a fit if she finds out we've invaded her lab."

"Don't worry about it, 'Geta," Goku said carelessly. Vegeta released a long breath.

"How. Many. Times. Must I remind you not to call me that?" the prince seethed.

"Probably a lot more," Goku replied tactfully. Vegeta made to storm towards him and ram his fist within the younger saiyan's bowels, but Goku danced around him, attention drawn towards an object on a nearby desk. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands.

"Hey Vegeta, check this out." Vegeta reluctantly turned his attention to Goku's hands rather than his stomach. The earth-bred saiyan held in his hands a piece of machinery shaped like a large handgun with two barrels pointing in opposite directions.

"That's funny. It's like a gun pointing two ways," Goku mused.

"Your head will be pointing two ways if you don't put that down soon," Vegeta growled, growing more uncomfortable as the other saiyan began prodding the object and turning dials here and there. He pointed it at the wall and pulled the trigger. The gun made a small whirring noise, but nothing happened. Vegeta allowed himself to relax as the saiyan visibly deflated.

"I guess it doesn't work yet, whatever it is," he muttered dejectedly.

"Consider that a good thing, Kakkarot," Vegeta added. He made to take the gun from Goku, but the saiyan jerked it away.

"Wait, I want to see what the other dials do."

"It doesn't work, you imbecil," Vegeta snarled. "Now give it to me before you break it. The woman will have my loins should anything happen to her work again." Goku backed up, fumbling at the dials again. He suddenly blinked.

"Oh look, there's a switch here. I wonder what it does." Vegeta noticed the gun suddenly whirr to life again, and froze.

"Kakkarot, put that – " Before he could finish his phrase, a jet of blue light shot from both barrels of the gun, piercing both Goku and Vegeta in the chest. Vegeta felt himself grow heavy, then light, but helpless as he felt himself wrenched through the air as if falling and falling, until everything went black.

…

Goku awoke with a searing headache. He groaned and rubbed at his head, blinking. Above him, he saw the white tiles ceiling of Bulma's lab, and everything that had happened came rushing back, bit by bit. He looked around him for the gun, and suddenly noticed he was clad in blue spandex and white boots.

Well that was queer.

He struggled to his feet and looked around. The table in the middle of the lab had been turned over, papers and metal objects strewn about the lab. Goku couldn't help but notice everything seemed a bit… taller than before. He shrugged and noticed the gun on the floor, bending over to pick it up. The gun was as lifeless as it had been when he'd found it. He played with the knobs and buttons, but summoned nothing but a few empty clicks. He suddenly heard a groan from behind the table. 'Oh yeah,' he suddenly remembered, 'Vegeta.'

"What the fuck just happened?" Goku blinked as he heard the saiyan growl from behind the table. Something sounded strange about his voice. It was surely him – there was no doubting that crass language – but the pitch felt off. Goku walked toward the table and peeked over, just as Vegeta snapped open his eyes.

The two saiyans stared at each other. Seconds later, a piercing screech emanated from both of them.

Vegeta scrambled to his feet, almost tripping over his new, longer legs and ungainly build. Goku simply stood and stared, one hand pointing at the saiyan before him.

"What… Vegeta… you… why do you look like me now?" Goku exclaimed. He nearly snapped his mouth shut mid-sentence when he suddenly realized how hoarse and raspy his voice sounded.

"What the hell do you mean I look like you!" Vegeta screeched. Goku couldn't help but find the aggressive words in his voice to be freakishly unnatural. "You're the one who… stole my body! What kind of witchcraft is this!" Goku trembled, looking down at himself, pulling at the spandex suit, and observing his smaller, slighter, though still muscular build. Vegeta touched his hair, rankled to find a flayed mess of hair rather than his usual slicked-back do. The orange jumpsuit irritated him already, and he felt himself irrationally repulsed by the way Goku prodded at _his_ body.

"Stop touching me… yourself… like that," the prince snapped as Goku began pulling at his cheeks and tugging his hair.

"But it's so weird," the saiyan whined. Vegeta bristled.

"What, you think being in your oaf of a body makes me feel any better?" he snapped. Goku suddenly looked up at him and blinked. Vegeta instantly felt the urge to punch Goku for placing such an innocent look on _his_ – or rather, his body's – face. It made him feel sick. Goku suddenly stepped forward until he faced Vegeta, and his face broke out into a smirk that, while more comfortable on his face, made Vegeta feel no better.

"So this is what it feels like, looking up at me all the time," Goku drawled. "No wonder you style your hair vertically." Vegeta flared, pulling Goku towards him by the scuff of his spandex suit. _His_ suit.

"Fuck you, Kakkarot. Don't you even try to belittle me like that. I'm still your prince, no matter whose oaf of a body I'm stuck in."

Goku pursed his lips. "You really shouldn't swear like that, Vegeta. Especially looking like me. I'm going to develop a potty-mouth, and it's unbecoming around the kids."

"Kami take your fucking kids! I'm not planning on staying like this for much longer! You're fixing this immediately!"

Goku rubbed his head and sighed, prying Vegeta's arms off the blue suit. It was difficult considering the outfit –his – considering how many times he'd thought it ridiculous and swore to never wear something similar.

"The gun doesn't work," he said pointedly, gesturing towards the gun he'd abruptly dropped upon seeing Vegeta. The saiyan prince blanched. He turned and picked the gun up, pointing it at Goku and pulling the trigger several times. When nothing happened, Vegeta screamed and threw the gun across the room, where it shattered against the wall.

"Well now you're gone and destroyed the thing, Vegeta!" Goku whined. "How are we ever going to get it to work?"

"It doesn't work, dumbass!" Vegeta shrieked. "How the hell are _you_ – you stupid, ungainly, waste of space – going to get it to work?" Goku was a bit put-off by the sudden slew of insults and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You're gonna give me wrinkles," he muttered. Vegeta stopped his raving and stared at Goku.

"What are you talking about?" the saiyan growled – though not half as menacingly in Goku's light voice than in his own. Goku pointed to the spot between his eyebrows.

"Wrinkles," he reiterated, "I'm pretty sure yours are permanent, 'cuz you scowl so much. You need to smile more." Goku gave the saiyan prince his prettiest smile. Vegeta threw a crowbar at his face.

"Vegeta, you're just injuring your own body like this!" Goku retaliated, massaging a bump on his head where the object had abruptly crash landed.

"I would rather see myself bruised and battered than sporting that horror of an expression on my face," Vegeta snarled, his cheeks still a slight green. Suddenly, both of them snapped their heads up, feeling a familiar presence approaching the house.

"Shit," Vegeta swore. "It's the woman. What the fuck do we do?" Goku glanced at the mess behind them.

"Should we tell her?" he asked uncertainly.

"Are you kidding?" Vegeta seethed. "She'll never let this down. There's no way she'll help us once she finds out what happened."

"Well how are we going to fix this then?" Goku asked, growing desperate.

"We'll tell her… it got destroyed while we were fighting. She'll fix it, and we'll be able to switch as soon as it's done."

"Alright, but do you think she'll buy it?" Goku asked uncertainly. Vegeta shot him an angry glare.

"You could start by wiping off that stupid expression on your face," he said darkly. Goku rolled his eyes and tried for a mean scowl.

"Is that better?" he said, pursing his lips angrily.

"No," Vegeta snorted. "Just act… not naturally, but just… just don't fucking say anything. Let me do the talking. Just go home."

"Go home?" Goku asked. "But… I technically live here now."

Vegeta paused for a moment, then snarled, ripping at his hair.

"Damn it all!" he swore. "Look, just get out of here. Get us both out of here! I need time to think!"

"Uh, alright," Goku said. He pressed two fingers to his forehead, his other hand on Vegeta's shoulder, and concentrated.

"Kakkarot, what are you doing?"

Goku blinked and looked up. Vegeta was still scowling at him, looking rather menacing now that he was so much taller.

"I don't… know. I can't teleport."

"What do you mean you can't teleport?" the prince yelled in exasperation.

"Shhh," Goku cooed, feeling Bulma's presence near the house. "I don't know. It just… it doesn't feel right. It's like your body isn't conditioned for it."

"Well obviously," Vegeta snapped. "I don't exactly teleport on a daily basis you know."

"Well how am I supposed to get us out of here?" Goku whined, bouncing up and down nervously.

"You don't," Vegeta said. "You're going to stay here. You're going to pretend you're me, and I'm going to go to your house and pretend I'm you. We'll do that until Bulma fixes the gun thing and then everything will be back to normal, do you _understand_?"

"Yes okay," Goku said, leaning away from the saiyan, who had become increasingly close during his agitation.

Goku jumped as he heard a door slam open not too far away and Bulma's voice echo through the building. "Vegeta, are you here? You left the gravity machine open again. And is this your towel on the floor. Urgh it reeks!"

"Blasted woman," Vegeta snarled. He glanced up at Goku and slapped him in the face.

"What the hell was that for?" Goku whined.

"Stop that," Vegeta snapped. "No more pathetic whining. I don't whine, and if you don't want Bulma to find out what happened you'll wipe that horrendous expression off your face before I rip it off."

Goku pat his new tender cheeks. "But you wouldn't do that to yourself, would you?" he said, attempting his most innocent expression.

"I will if you ever look at me like that again. I would rather be maimed than… fucking hell, stop it you oaf! You're doing it on purpose now!" Vegeta grabbed Goku around the neck, a feat much easier now because of the size difference, and wrestled him into a headlock cursing angrily.

"Vegeta?"

Goku and Vegeta froze as Bulma entered the room, gazing curiously at the both of them. She smiled wryly and folded her arms.

"I see Goku's putting you in your place again, Vegeta," she commented. Vegeta scowled and was about to snap something in retort when something jerked him in the ribs.

"I was just about to kick his… ass actually," Goku said. Vegeta stared at the saiyan, who was obviously attempting to match his usual angry look and instead had his face contorted into something akin to a constipated baboon. Vegeta exhaled slowly and cleared his throat, attempting a smile.

"Vegeta and I just finished sparring," he announced. "We were, uh, I was just leaving."

"Oh, we broke your gun by the way," Goku said, holding out the gun towards Bulma. "Got a little rough in your office."

Vegeta stared at Goku in disgust. For one that was a terrible way to put it. Second, throwing out the gun like that wasn't suspicious at _all_. Third class buffoon.

Fortunately, Bulma hadn't seemed to notice the wording as her eyes fell on the cracked gun.

"Damnit all, Vegeta," she yelled, snatching the gun from Goku's hand. "If you two are going to fight, keep it the fuck outside. And stay out of my lab!"

Goku sidled out of the room, expression wary.

"When do you think it will be fixed?" Vegeta asked. Bulma glanced up at him and then scrutinized the weapon from several directions.

"Not sure…" she began. "It wasn't complete to begin with. Still some notches to solve. It should be fixed within two or three days."

'Two or three days?' Vegeta nearly yelled. He was going to be stuck in the stupid idiot's body for three days more? He scowled and followed Goku out of the lab in disgruntlement.

"Hey Goku." Bulma touched his arm as he passed by. Vegeta paused. "Thanks for stopping by. How's Chichi?"

"Uh," Vegeta grunted, and cleared his throat. "She's… good."

"She called earlier, saying that Trunks was going to stay over at your place. I hope that's all right by you. That boy thinks of you as his second father, you know."

"Does he?" Vegeta said with slight annoyance. Bulma's eyebrows rose at the tone.

"Are you alright? You sound upset. Did Vegeta do something?" she shot Goku an accusing glare. The saiyan just stared back stupidly, puffed his chest, and crossed his arms.

"Uh, no, sorry," Vegeta grunted trying to ignore how idiotic the third-class buffoon was making him look. "I'm just… tired. Think I'm going to head home soon."

"Alright," Bulma smiled, patting Vegeta's arm. "Let me know if Trunks causes any trouble."

"Sure." Vegeta excused himself with a muffled sigh of relief and shot Goku a meaningful look that snarled, 'Follow me or I'll rip your arse off.'

Once outside, Vegeta turned on the saiyan.

"Stop it," he said. Goku's scowl turned into an expression of surprise.

"Stop what?"

"Looking stupid."

"But… I'm pretending I'm you."

"You don't look like me. You look like you pretending to be me."

"But… that's what I'm doing."

"Urgh, but you're not supposed to!" Vegeta snarled, throwing his hands in the air. "Just… go to bed early. Don't talk to Bulma, don't talk to anyone. And especially don't smile."

Goku frowned. "You know, if you smiled a bit, I'm sure you'd make a lot more friends."

"I don't want any friends! And don't even think about it," Vegeta warned. "Try it and I'll rip you open from neck to balls and nail your entrails to your head."

Goku turned a shade green. "But… what if I get hungry?"

"Just find something in the fridge."

Goku didn't look pleased, but Vegeta supposed a hungry Goku was more likely to look sour-faced than a satisfied one. "Well you need to practice your smile then. Because if you come home looking like that, Chichi's going to throw you out of the house."

Vegeta sniffed. "Let her try, there's no way I'm –"

"If I have to play the role of dramatic, lonely and misunderstood, you need to play happy, alright?"

"I am not lonely and misunderstood," Vegeta snapped.

"Smile, 'Geta."

Vegeta bared his teeth.

"You look like you're going to rip someone's heart out. Jeez is that what I look like when I'm angry?"

Vegeta tried again, and again, until Goku gave a shrug of resignation.

"It doesn't matter," Vegeta finally bit. "I won't spend much time with them anyway. I'll just hit the sack early. "

"But you have to eat or they'll get suspicious."

"Fine, whatever!" Vegeta turned to go, shooting Goku one last look. "Remember, no smiling."

Goku gave him his best scowl. "Entrails. Nail. Head. Got it."

Vegeta shuddered at the thought of leaving Goku at his house for the night before taking off into the slowly darkening sky.

…


	2. Switching Souls Part 2

Switching Souls Part 2

…

Vegeta flew up to Kakkarot's house and paused outside the door. He could hear Trunks and Gotenks railing and screaming at the television inside, and the harpy's strident voice shrieking at them from the other side of the house. He groaned and leaned his head against the door. He took a deep breath, and, resigned, made to open the door. Instead, it opened before he could touch it, Goku's son nearly knocking into him.

"Hey dad!" he greeted, face breaking out into a wide grin. Vegeta flinched back, Trunk's face immediately coming to his mind.

"Uh, hi… son."

"Wow, you're early. Vegeta kick you out early today?" he grinned and checked his watch before Vegeta could answer. "I'm off to grab a few things from -'s I forgot. Don't wait up on me for dinner!" And with that the saiyan zipped off into the air and disappeared.

Vegeta groaned. "Your sons are exhausting, Kakkarot," he muttered under his breath, and pushed the door open.

"Gotenks, you turn that television down or I am taking away your video games for a _week_!" Chichi's reaming carried through the house like a siren, and Vegeta still didn't know why the damned woman couldn't just walk the ten steps from the kitchen to the living room like a normal person and just _ask_ the boys to turn down the volume.

"Boys, listen to your mother," Vegeta offered, closing the door behind him.

"Dad!" Gotenks exclaimed, head swiveling like a wind-up toy, and flew up out of the couch. He shot towards Vegeta like an arrow, and purely by reflex Vegeta ducked. Gotenks hit the door with a dull _thunk_ and flopped to the floor. Trunks, appropriately, burst out laughing.

Vegeta turned around, horrified, and watched the boy sit up and rub his head.

"Uh," Vegeta said stupidly.

"Guess I gotta work on those turning reflexes still," Gotenks admitted with a grin, and as easily as if he'd simply slipped, and flew up, grabbing Vegeta by the neck and hugging him tight.

"You're back early, dad!" Vegeta tensed for a moment at the sudden, unexpected, and wholly _wrong_ experience of being hugged. He resisted the urge to pull the child off him like a leech and send it flying to Mars, and instead patted Gotenks awkwardly on the back.

"Uh, yeah. Guess I am."

Gotenks finally released him and flew back over to sit by Trunks, obediently lowering the volume on their cartoons.

"Goku, is that you?" Chichi called from the kitchen. She poked her head out and grinned when she saw him. "Oh, you're back early! How was training today?"

"Short," Vegeta said, vexed by all the comments about being home early. Was Kakkarot really this negligent about coming home to his family? Why? He always seemed so happy to be around them, and they definitely enjoyed his presence, if the blinding smiles and exuberant greetings weren't clear enough.

"Since you're here, why don't you help me with dinner?" Chichi offered. Vegeta recoiled, staring at her in such utter horror that she rolled her eyes. "I was joking, Goku. You know very well I wouldn't let you within ten feet of this kitchen ever since –"

"Yeah, no thanks," Vegeta quickly muttered.

"Why don't you set the table instead?" She held out five bowls in his direction, and a handful of chopsticks. Vegeta debated telling her off, but remembered he was playing Goku. He silently took the bowls and placed them in a circle on the table, with two chopsticks next to each bowl, as he'd seen Bulma do before. Nothing to it.

He joined the boys for a few minutes before the screaming cartoons began to grind on his nerves. Thankfully, a few minutes later, Chichi called from the kitchen, "Dinner's ready!"

The boys immediately shut off the television and sprang off the couch, flying into their chairs at the table. Trunks landed too heavily in his chair and it careened over.

"What did I tell you boys about flying into your chairs and breaking the furniture?" Chichi screeched as she stomped over with a platter covered in bowls of steaming rice, noodles, fried vegetables, and meats.

"Sorry Ms. -," Trunks said, straightening his chair and sitting in it properly. Chichi frowned but began setting the bowls on the table. Almost as soon as they landed, their contents disappeared onto the boys' plates and in their mouths. Unabashed, Chichi brought three more platters of food over to the table before sitting beside Gotenks with a modest bowl of rice and vegetables. She glanced up at Goku.

"Is something wrong, dear?"

"No, no," Vegeta said, quickly taking a seat beside Trunks and well away from the harpy. "Smells delicious." He tried for a grin and Chichi looked concerned.

"Are you sure you're alright? You haven't looked so good since coming home."

"I'm fine," Vegeta said, perhaps too sharply. Gotenks glanced up at him in concern. Vegeta busied himself by piling his plate with food and digging in. He had to admit it was good food. Chichi appeared sedated by his usual voracious appetite and picked delicately at her food.

Goten joined them half-way through dinner, apologizing for his tardiness and taking a seat between Chichi and Vegeta.

"So how was training today, dad?" he asked nonchalantly. "-

Vegeta almost choked and glared at the Son boy. Gotenks started at the unusual glare, and Vegeta tried to soften it with a shrug and attempt a smile. It hurt his mouth.

"We sparred. I won," Vegeta said, keeping it short.

"Of course y'did," Gotenks muttered around a mouthful of rice. Vegeta raised his head and glared at his son.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he said slowly.

"Well," Gotenks swallowed. "Everyone knows you're stronger than him."

"Hey!" Vegeta and Trunks said, simultaneously. Vegeta glanced at his son, who looked down at his plate sullenly. Vegeta cleared his throat.

"Vegeta is very strong," he insisted. "He could pulver- protect you all as well as I could."

"You're too nice to Vegeta, dad," Gotenks said, chewing on his meal. "You always take his side."

"Yeah, I mean, even I know my dad is kind of a dick sometimes," Trunks commented.

"Language, young man," Chichi chided.

"I just think Vegeta's misunderstood," Gohan commented, flipping through a page of his newspaper and readjusting his glasses with a quick smile.

"Misunder-what?" Vegeta stuttered.

"Well, he's always acting tough and mean, but underneath it all, he's pretty nice. He's had a tough life, it's only natural that he'd grown up so cruel-mindedly. I mean, he cares about Trunks and saved all of us several times. Heck, he helped save the world once or twice."

"You forget he tried to kill your dad in the middle of the battle against Buu," Trunks said.

"And then self-destructed. Which didn't really help anyone," Gotenks finished.

"Hey," Vegeta began in irritation.

"But it's the thought that counts," Gohan commented wisely. "That Vegeta was willing to sacrifice himself to save you both, to save the planet he used to care nothing for, shows how much he's changed. He's a delicate soul."

Trunks snorted. "Yeah, delicate as a flower. That's my dad."

Gohan sniffed. "I never said he was a dandelion," he said.

"So what, he's a Venus flycatcher?"

"Or a corpse flower!" Gotenks laughed.

"Hey, my dad does not smell!" Trunks countered, flicking a pea at Gotenks' face.

"Vegeta is not a flower!" Vegeta snapped. Four faces swiveled in his direction. He immediately tried to relax his expression and curled his lips back into an uncomfortable grin. "He's just… Vegeta, all right?"

"Yeah, of course," Gohan said with a knowing smile. Chichi smiled and kneaded Vegeta's shoulder.

"It's so nice to see how much you care about your friend," she said. "You're always willing to give people a second change."

"Uh, yeah," Vegeta said slowly, stuffing his mouth with more food to avoid the strange looks Kakkarot's wife was sending him.

After dinner finished, the kids were shuttled to their room and ordered to go to sleep promptly at eight. Vegeta debated keeping his current clothes or changing into a pair of fresh briefs and shirt which were inadvertently Kakkarot's. Either way, he was wearing the other saiyan's clothes, as strange as the idea seemed, so he quickly threw on a pair of checkered white trunks (the least ridiculous of the many strangely patterened underwear in Kakkarot's closet) and a blue wife-beater. He threw himself on his bed and closed his eyes, praying for the following morning to come as quickly as possible so he could rid himself of this blasted house and its thrice-damned occupants. And did Trunks really think he was a dick? Well he wasn't exactly Kakkarot, that's for sure, but it wasn't like he beat his own son or anything. Just when they were training. And he was pretty gentle about it. Usually.

Distracted by his thoughts, he didn't realize he was no longer alone in the room until someone slipped into the bed with him and slid a cool hand under his shirt. Vegeta nearly squeaked and flipped over, staring as Kakkarot's wife gave him a sultry gaze under her loose black hair, a tight-fitting pink nightgown hugging her body.

"What… are you doing?" Vegeta managed to say as civilly as possible.

"What are you saying Goku," Chichi asked. "Come on, it's been a while since you've actually been home on time and not conked out straight after dinner." She smiled provocatively again, tugging at his trunks. "What do you say we have a little fun tonight?"

Vegeta resisted the urge to screech and fumbled back, hand suddenly slipping as he no longer felt the mattress and slipped off the bed with a muffled thunk.

'Nonononononono,' he thought desperately. 'No way I'm sleeping with this harpy!'

"Goku dear, are you alright?" the woman asked from the bed. Vegeta scrambled to his feet and turned to face the window, desperate to hide his flustered appearance and skyrocketing pulse.

"I'm… actually not feeling well," he stuttered. "I think it was the sparring from this afternoon. Vegeta really got me good in the stomach."

"Did he?" Chichi asked, before her voice turned disapproving. "Really Goku, you shouldn't hold back around him. I'm sure he'd still kill you if he had the chance."

"I would n–" Vegeta stopped himself, biting down on his tongue. "I'm not holding back," he said instead. "Not… not really… I guess." Vegeta paused. What if Kakkarot _was_ holding back? Well, consciously knowing the stupid third-class saiyan was marginally stronger than him didn't necessarily mean that he was constantly holding himself back when he practiced with Vegeta. At the same power levels, they were technically evenly matched. Vegeta scowled as he mulled over this possibility.

"Goku." Vegeta jerked upright as a slender hand snuck around his abs and dipped dangerously close to the waistband of his trunks. "Are you coming back to bed?"

Vegeta plucked Chichi's hand from his chest and handed it back to her, trying not to grimace. "I'm… I think I'm going to go get some air."

Chichi's curious expression turned into a frown, and she folded her hands over her chest.

"If this is your way of being evasive, or getting away from fucking m –"

"Jeeze, wo – Chichi, it's not that!" Vegeta quickly interrupted. "I'm really not feeling good is all."

Vegeta strode past the human woman before she could reply and left the room, padding as quietly down the stairs as he could manage, opened the door, and zipped out into the cool night with mild goosebumps, desperate for a bath and Goku's face to punch several times. Maybe a lake would have to do, with Goku's reflection for company.

…

Vegeta found the lake, but it was already occupied. He'd been so distracted on his flight over that he hadn't even noticed the Namekian's presence until he was about to land. He figured he'd already been spotted, and it was too late to turn tail. Not that he would. The thrice-damned string bean would just have to shove off if he found Vegeta's presence irritating. Then he remembered that he was supposed to be Goku and that Kakkarot brooding by himself at the lake was likely to be suspicious. Right on schedule, he felt the Namekian approach and land a few feet away.

"Goku?" Piccolo greeted, sounding uncertain. "I could swear I felt Vegeta nearby. Are you two fighting again? It's a bit late for your lover's quarrel, isn't it?"

"Ah, can it, green bean," Vegeta muttered irritably.

" _Excuse_ me?"

"I mean… I said 'stop it, that's mean."

"Uh huh," the Namkian drawled skeptically. "You sound off, Goku. You alright?"

Vegeta grumbled silently. Even the Namekian was getting all personal. Wasn't this guy supposed to be evil and standoffish most of the time? Since when had Piccolo and Goku become best buds?

"I'm fine, just tired. Needed some air."

"All right. Need to spar?" Piccolo offered.

Vegeta shook his head, then thought about it. "Yeah sure, why not?" He grinned and cracked his knuckles, thankful the moonless night hid his bloodthirsty expression. Playing around with Goku's abilities might be fun. Who knows, maybe he'd make it to SS3!

Piccolo started at Goku's expression. Unbeknownst to the saiyan, he could see very well in the dark, and that grin on his face was startlingly out of place. Something was definitely off.

"Goku, why do you look like its Christmas and someone offered you a brand spanking new archenemy?"

"What?"

"Nevermind."

Vegeta ignored the Namekian's jibe and began powering up, just enough to match the Namekian. No use in smearing the insect all over the mountains on accident. Goku would have one hell of a time explaining _that_ to his friends. Vegeta wondered if it was worth it just to see that… Piccolo would just be resurrected by the end of the month anyways.

Vegeta was so busy daydreaming that he nearly caught an energy beam to the face.

"Hey, Goku, pay attention. You look even more airheaded than usual."

Vegeta scowled. He lifted himself in the air, even to the Namekian, and gathered his chi.

Piccolo looked confused for a moment, and was barely able to stave off Vegeta's sudden flurry of mid-air hand-to-hand blows.

"What the –?" He suddenly vanished and reappeared behind Vegeta faster than the Saiyan had expected, delivering a hard blow to the back of his neck. Vegeta plummeted to the ground, slamming into rock. He extricated himself from the rubble with a grumble, cracking his neck, and startled when Piccolo suddenly slammed into the ground in front of him, face twisted in rage.

"Who are you? What have you done with Goku?" he demanded.

Vegeta froze. "Wh- what are you talking about? I'm Kak- Goku!"

"Liar!" Piccolo snarled, gathering chi to his left hand and pointing it at Vegeta. The saiyan prince was barely able to dodge the chi canon before Piccolo shot at him through the residual dust and delivered full-energy blows. Vegeta dodged and blocked with increasing frustration before he finally powered up and punched the Namekian square in the face. Piccolo soared backwards and dropped like a stone into the lake. Seconds later, he emerged, soaking wet, and pissed.

"What the hell is your problem?" Vegeta roared.

"Hah!" Piccolo exclaimed victoriously. "Goku would never say something like that! And your energy signature is completely different from Goku's!"

Vegeta cursed under his breath. Of course the Namekian would register a difference in their energy signatures. He was far more sensitive to that than the others, likely a result of harboring three spirits in one body.

"Look," he began, but was forced to bite his tongue when Piccolo began his onslaught again, this time rapid-firing chi blasts. "God damnit," Vegeta dodged and swatted away the blasts. "Will. You. Stop. It!" He swept through a half-dozen blasts and knocked into Piccolo, sending them tumbling to the ground. They both recovered and hopped to their feet within seconds.

"Damnit green bean, will you quit your firing for ten seconds," Vegeta snarled.

Piccolo froze and raised an eyebrow. "Vegeta?"

The saiyan groaned. "Aw shit. Yeah."

He waited for some kind of sardonic remark, but Piccolo just stood there, looking astonished, until a strange sound began to bubble from the Namekian and his face began to contort grossly.

"Piccolo,"

"Oh my-"

"Piccolo, I'm serious, don't."

"-god, you're… you're _serious_ -"

"Stop laughing."

That was enough to set him roaring. Vegeta glared sullenly, crossing his arms as Piccolo let loose with the strangest bout of laughter so rusty and distorted that Vegeta was sure it only happened once in a millennia. Any more would surely cause the forest to wilt and the local fauna to pack up and migrate south a month early.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Vegeta groused.

Finally, Piccolo let up, wiping at his eyes with the edge of his cape. "Oh man, do I even want to ask how this happened?"

"It was one of Bulma's stupid new inventions, and Goku's incessant curiosity."

"Oh, _balls_. Where is Goku now?"

"Bulma's place. She's supposed to have the machine fixed soon."

"I need to go."

"Piccolo, don't you dare –"

"I need to see this." Piccolo looked far too gleeful. He began to lift himself off the ground.

"Oi, shit for brains, you tell anyone about this –"

"Oh I wouldn't _dream_ of it," Piccolo grinned. "It would completely spoil the fun."

And with that, he zipped off into the night in the direction of the Briefs household.

"Oh _balls_ ," Vegeta muttered.

…


End file.
